we torch-bearers

We will come to you, we torch-bearers,
incensed with the puritan flame,
with the zealous cleansing drive;
in the devoted night you'll hear us,
coming in the trampled rush of the end of times.

Ours is a land of light, and you,
you are just rotten wood, asking
- in your constant waking dream -
to be burned and purified for once, liberated
from this horrible doubt harboured
in your hearts.